


Half Measures

by Hydroxypropanone



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, vague Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4722167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hydroxypropanone/pseuds/Hydroxypropanone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'He used to call it Justice, but he isn't so sure anymore.'<br/>A short story set at several different points in DA2, depicting Anders' struggles in coming to terms with Justice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half Measures

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So I've recently finished replaying DA2 and really felt like writing about Anders so here's a little something I whipped up. Any thoughts on this are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

He used to call it Justice, but he isn't so sure anymore.

Justice was a gentle flame in the darkness, guiding him steadily towards his goal.

But his anger is a forest and the taint the wind, fanning the flame and allowing it to feed hungrily, getting ever bolder day by day until his entire mind is ablaze with one single thought.

-0-0-0-

Abomination, they sometimes call him behind his back, and the real Anders sometimes wonders whether his friends may actually be right...

But no. How can they be right when they happily sit and ignore everything wrong with the world? Ignore that there are mages out there being trussed up in Circles like animals, resided over by abusive Templars who deny them their freedoms and make them Tranquil should they even toe the line.

No. They may call him abomination, but they were the true abominations.

-0-0-0-

Lying to his friend isn't easy and Anders can't look him in the eye, but the ruse turns out successful.

Yes, a cure.

He and Justice will be separated, free to go their own ways once more.

What a wonderful sentiment.

But he feels a little guilty when Hawke returns several days later with his requests, ever the innocent of his bad intentions.

No. Good intentions ("Justice?") This has to be done.

The freedom of all the mages in Thedas for the betrayal of one friend's trust? There is no choice here and if that is the price to be paid then so be it.

And just like that his guilt is gone, because Anders knows first-hand the true value of freedom.

-0-0-0-

He doesn't want to do it.

At least he doesn't think he does.

Betraying a friend is one thing, but actively involving them in his plans and them unknowingly going along with it? Anders isn't sure whether he can go that far.

Wait. Yes. Yes he can, of course he can: he has to.

This is the only way to ensure the freedom of the mages.

And the lie comes easily this time, slipping off the tongue like warm butter off a knife.

-0-0-0-

Today is the day and he knows the time has come.

The mages struggles have gone on long enough.

The First Enchanter is in the courtyard, trying to protect the Circle mages.

But the Circle has failed them; anyone should be able to see that.

The time has come to act.

There can be no half measures.

There can be no turning back.

But a part of him wants to turn back and again he can't bring himself to look at the friend whose trust he has betrayed. ("Is this truly justice?")

The ground beneath them begins to vibrate and a rumbling noise rises out of the earth.

Anders heart jolts in panic as he realises what he has done and for a brief second, he wants to fix it; He wants to go back and work things through peacefully with the Grand Cleric. ("This isn't justice, this is vengeance!")

But the flame inside of him is no longer small and gentle, but has warped and grown into something devastating and merciless, destroying everything in it's wake.

There can be no turning back!

And now a bright jet of light blasts out of the roof of the Chantry, and the building rises into the sky in pieces, pulling in on itself to form a fiery ball which explodes outwards over the city, hailing rubble and dust down onto the streets below.

There is silence as everyone in the courtyard stares dumbfounded at where the Chantry proudly stood only a few moments ago.

Then slowly everyone's face turns towards him. Some of them look angry, others disbelieving, most of them a mixture of the two.

Last to turn to him is his friend.

No words are needed; his expression says everything he needs to know: why?

The question lingers in the air for a moment as he considers his answer.

"There can be no peace." Vengeance replies.


End file.
